


Unfinished WIP: MadaSaku - "Farmer's Market Stand AU" (maybe-please!)

by moor



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Modern Farmer's Market Gangster AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 21:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moor/pseuds/moor
Summary: The "Uchiha stand" at the farmer's market? MadaraxSakura. NSFW language/innuendo.





	Unfinished WIP: MadaSaku - "Farmer's Market Stand AU" (maybe-please!)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maybe-please](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=maybe-please).



> maybe-please asked: Omg! Guess who found her notes on our little project from way back?! Me!! How 'bout a little something regarding the "Uchiha stand" at the farmer's market? MadaraxSakura  
> \----------------------------------------------  
> OMG YES! :D :D :D
> 
> MadaSaku for @maybe-please  
> Modern AU
> 
> Rating: M (for innuendo)
> 
> Farmer’s Market/Fruit Stand AU XD

Glancing down at her list again, Sakura realised she’d forgotten to pick up bananas from the grocery store. She closed her eyes and mentally groaned. How was she supposed to make her smoothies every morning without bananas?

With a quick glance at her watch, she saw she could still make it to the nearby Farmer’s Market before it closed, and it would save her driving all the way back to the store (and looking like a forgetful idiot) if she were to simply stop by the organic fruit stand there. Sure, a tad expensive, but she had to admit that everything they sold was top-notch and in fantastic shape, unlike the grocery store which was pawed over by every patron.

But.

Her eyes clenched shut.

She would have to deal with him.

Maybe he wouldn’t be working that day? A part of her whispered hopefully.

Do I ever have any luck when it comes to dealing with him? No.

She opened her eyes and glanced at her phone to check the time.

With a sigh, she hurried to the Farmer’s Market.

*****

The scowl pasted itself on her face in spite of her best… well, okay, not really even meager… efforts.

“Melons,” said the tall, beefy, dark-suited man in front of her in line.

“Fresh or is a day old okay?” asked Madara, his wild hair pulled back in a high ponytail. He owned and ran the organic fruit stand. He had incredible standards, even better taste (in almost everything), and was unfortunately a sadistic, stupid asshole. In Sakura’s humble opinion.

“A day old,” said Mr Suit.

“Do you need any grapes?”

“A few cases.”

“Wait here,” said Madara, ducking behind a curtain at the back of the stand. Well, perhaps it was more than a stand. It was at the very least, a homey shack. Above the curtain read a cutesy, homemade sign, “EMPLOYEES ONLY. STRICTLY ENFORCED”.

Crossing her arms in front of her, Sakura glared at the back of the man she waited behind. Whoever heard of ordering melons from the back of the store? There were plenty out front! Couldn’t he have just picked some from some of the displays out front? Then she wouldn’t be stuck in line, waiting to pay for a single bunch of bananas. (Fantastic looking bananas, she had to admit. Plump and fat and long and probably big enough that she would only need half of one to make a smoothie. What else could she make with them? Hmmm… banana bread? Maybe she should look around for walnuts…)

A squeaky wheel announced Madara’s return with the… was that a wheelbarrow? No. Not a wheelbarrow. A pumper truck with multiple wooden skids of wooden cases, each clearly stamped in brightly coloured, military font letters, wheeled to a stop before them. “M E L O N S   -   D A Y   O L D”, “G R A P E S”.

“Cash sales only,” said Madara, parking the pumper truck just beside him.  
Sakura could only goggle. How many damn melons did this man need?

“How much?”

“Two thousand four hundred.”

Sakura’s jaw dropped open and hung limp.

The man in front of her huffed and grumped, but then dumped three stacks of bills on the cash register counter, each neatly bound in elastic bands.

“Keep the change.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” said Madara lightly. “You can return the dolly in a day or two. To the back,” he said, thumbing towards the rear of the stall.

Mr Suit nodded and left, squeaky wheels trailing after him.

Then it was Sakura’s turn.

“What can I help you with… good afternoon, Sakura,” smirked Madara.

“Two… thousand…. Dollars…. For melons!?”

“In my defence, they were a day old. Fresh would have cost more,” said Madara, leaning forward and resting on his elbows on the counter. He looked down at her purchase. “I see you’re enjoying my thick bananas again. Do they satisfy you?”

“Two… thousand…”

She just couldn’t get her head around the price of fruit. Sure, costs were going up these days, but that was ridiculous.

Wait a second, had Madara just made another filthy joke at her expense? That asshole.

“Two ninety five, actually. Bananas are much cheaper than melons,” he said.

Sakura reached into her pocket to pull out her change, only to grimace. And flush with embarrassment.

“I only have two fifty.” She hated how quiet her voice turned.

She looked at the bananas mournfully. Damn.

Madara looked at her.

Then reached forward and snapped one banana off the bunch.

“Two fifty,” he sighed. Then held up the banana in his hand. “IF you eat this one. Here. Now.”

He grinned at her as Sakura debated internally, her anger rising in her face and clenching her fists.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.”

He waved the banana in front of his eyes, pretending to examine it.

“Your call.” He looked at her meaningfully. “How badly do you want my big banana?”

“Keep it,” she spat, grabbing the rest of the bunch.

“Ah ah ah, that’s two ninety five.”

“You just said two fifty!”  
“IF you ate one here. Cough up the rest. I have rent to pay. Overhead.”

“You just got two and a half grand for fucking melons!”

“I’d love to fuck your melons, but we’re talking about my big banana at the moment.”

“Oh my god, I hate you so much.”

Sakura seethed as she dug around in her purse. Surely she had some more loose change in there somewhere!

But no.

It was a loss.

“Why can’t you just accept debit or credit like everyone else these days?” she wailed, slamming her purse down on the counter in defeat.

Resigned, she reached for the banana.

“I do,” he said. He pulled the machine out from behind the cash register. “Is that easier?”

A strange numbness settled over Sakura in that moment.

“But… you just told him…” She positively shook with anger and confusion.

Madara shrugged.

“Here,” he said, handing the card reader over.

Sakura stared at him, then tapped her card against the reader where it made a small beep confirming the transaction was processed.

“You’re the worst man I’ve ever known,” she said quietly. “You’re a criminal.”

He shrugged.

“So, are you free Friday night?” he asked.  
  
 **THE END.**


End file.
